Only Once
by EveningInHornersCorners
Summary: We all have people we wouldn't so much as cast a second look at for all the tea in China. And yet, some of us have those we only wish we could see again. If we're lucky, fate is on our side.
1. I Heard Your Voice in a Crowd

_**A/N: The wristwatch I mention here was only in the original cut of the pilot, but even if you haven't seen it, I'd say in its context here it's pretty self-explanatory.**_

Althea's eyes struggled to follow Tony as long as they could, to hold onto the sight of his moss-colored sweater for just a moment more, but he disappeared into the crowd and she soon lost all sight of him.

What had it been about him that made her tingle inside every time they encountered one another? After all, she hadn't known him twenty-four hours, they'd barely exchanged a hundred words, and he certainly wasn't the most…_romantic_ man she'd ever come across. Moreover, in the short time of their acquaintance they had seemed to clash incurably.

Especially over the last matter they had spoken of…

"…_you've no right to play God…deciding when it's time for you to live or die…you don't have that right."_

They were just words; nothing more, nothing less. And yet it still made her wonder; had those words actually sold her, or had she gone only to appease him? It was difficult to discern; the things he had said were …alluring, things she wished for all the world were true…

"_Neurosurgery is not a fad and it's not hopeless...__I'm asking you to believe in life, not death. Althea, please, believe in me."_

Could it really be true, that perhaps, in her lifetime, in the few months she had left, that she could be helped?

But was there any reason to get her hopes up about any more of an extension on her life, just because a man she barely knew had insisted it was possible? Dr. Harrison had said it was a miracle as it was that she'd survived as long as she had.

And she was unused to believing in anyone. All her life she had been a brooding loner, porcupine like in the fact that she never let anyone get too close, lest she be hurt. Acting on any sort of attraction was a foreign concept. And despite her raising in a staunchly Catholic family with two faith-filled parents, she had never felt close to God. She didn't remember the last time she'd prayed, and at times she had come to question God's very existence. She _never_ relied on Him.

Yet, through it all, hadn't companionship, trust, been what she truly wanted?

"_It's a 1968 wristwatch. I want you to have it." _

That was the only thing Althea was certain of: Tony _had_ been telling the truth about time travel. She had proof, tangible proof, of that, right here in her hands, which he had given her just before she was lifted into the lifeboat.

But, yet, at the same time, _that_ was the thing that puzzled her most of all. Had he been other places in time, handing out souvenirs as such like candy? Did he just randomly stop wherever he fancied and help scores of damsels in distress? Or had she somehow been…special?

It didn't really matter. He was gone; she'd never see him again, nor, if he had given out other pieces like his watch, would she be likely to encounter any of the recipients. Why didn't she just forget and move on?

The reason was simple: she couldn't.

###

The vortex, the kaleidoscope, was gone. In its place, Tony realized, opening his eyes, was the beach that had flashed before their eyes during their journey from 87 B.C.

"Tony?" he heard his companion call. Shading his eyes, he saw that Doug was only about ten yards down the beach.

"I'm here, Doug." He called, rising to his feet and waving. The other physicist took a few long strides.

"Where do you suppose we are?"

"I couldn't begin to guess." Dr. Newman replied grimly. "Unless we're back in the Barbary Coast War."

"Or on Krakatoa. Tony, did you feel any odd turbulence when we were making the transfer?"

The younger man looked up at his companion. "You noticed it too?"

"How could I miss it? Do you suppose the Tunnel's starting to…wear out?"

Tony sighed. "It could be. So many transfers are probably taking their toll. And who knows what else has happened at Tic Toc?"

###

Directly before the lifeboat was lowered, one last passenger, a little girl no more than five, was placed on board right next to Althea.

"Miss," the man who lifted the shivering child in addressed her, "She's a bit upset. Her father is still on board, you see. But I assure you, she is not responsible for anything she says."

"Of course."

The lifeboat began descending.

Almost immediately it seemed that the girl flung herself to the bottom of the boat and began beating its surface, screaming and weeping. Several of the other women shrank back in fright.

Althea leaned down, each inch bringing her closer to that tortured look she knew all too well. She gingerly reached down and stroked the child's cheek. The little girl halted, gazing up at her with curious eyes.

"Darling, did…did your father ever let you play with his watch?"

The girl nodded her head solemnly.

Althea opened her hand. The child's eyes grew wide. She gently took Tony's wristwatch and began turning the knob on the side.

Althea sighed, relieved. Sometimes her teaching experience came in handy.

But the peace didn't last.

Suddenly the little girl let out a wail and threw the watch over the side of the lifeboat. Althea drew in a horrified gasp.

_C'mon Althea. It's only a watch, a timepiece. __It doesn't mean anything!_

But that was a lie. It _did_ mean something.

Hadn't Tony saved her life? Wasn't he the reason she was on this lifeboat at all?

Wasn't it the least she could do to keep the thing he'd "wanted her to have", the very thing that had proved to her that he was, indeed, who he said he was?

She wasn't a strong swimmer, and never had been. But wasn't there enough there to summon, to go after what mattered?

She undid her life jacket and hurled herself over the side. Shouts filled her ears, all the words running together so much that they could not be told apart from one another.

She fell quickly, dropped like a stone, and plunged into the water.

But before she could swim a stroke she was sucked under the surface by a whirlpool.


	2. Watch That Scene

_**A/N: Happy birthday to James Darren, and I apologize for the scene in Tic Toc base; I can't do techno babble to save my life.**_

Having been able to climb to the top of a small mountain peak and look over their surroundings, Doug and Tony could safely say that that had landed on an island, and a miniscule one at that; when, or where, however, they still knew not.

The entire vicinity seemed to be deserted; no natives, no settlers, and hardly an animal to speak of. It was warm, so there wasn't any need to build a fire. In fact, there was nothing they could do but wait.

Up until now, Tony had been under the impression that he had cultivated patience and perfected the art of it during his grammar school days when he was forced to work in groups with some of his less intelligent classmates who could have made a career out of trying him.

But even if he had developed such a skill during those times, it somehow seemed lost to him now. Ever since he'd entered the Tunnel there had _always _been _something _happening, always _some_ activity going on, regardless of such trivial designations as major or minor, painful or numbing, good or bad. It didn't make any difference.

Throughout his many tortures he had always longed for peace, even the peace of the vortex, which by any decent comparison was hardly peace at all.

And he had always associated peace with silence.

By that definition, this moment in time, right now, should have been a very peaceful time; after all, it was a virtual _eternity_ of silence.

But there wasn't a whit of serenity in the air. Neither of them had anything to say, anything _worth_ saying, but Tony almost wished Doug would crack a joke, suggest a chorus of "Homeward Bound", _anything_. He just wanted _something_ to break the tension building up in the air that was slowly beginning to infest him as well.

One thing he knew: pacing was doing him no good.

He cleared his throat, and Doug looked up.

"I'm…I'm going to go look for mussels."

"May I join you?" the taller man asked.

The younger physicist nodded. "Wish you would. I'd actually prefer to have some company."

And so the two set out. After checking over several stones and finding nothing on any of them, Doug jerked his head to the left and said, "I'm going to search over there." Tony nodded and started skulking out toward a cluster of rocks in the opposite direction. Carefully inspecting each one, he turned up no mussels.

He leaned up against one of the stones and sighed.

Initially, it had only been an excuse to get away. But now, as he thought about it, who knew how long they'd be here on this island? They'd have to scavenge to get any food at all.

"Tony, come and have a look at this."

Curious, he started in the direction of his companion's voice. As he drew closer he could see Doug, knee deep in the water, standing above something—or was it some_one_?

Coming even nearer, his breath caught.

_No…no, it couldn't be…You're letting your imagination play tricks on you…_

He knelt down by the unconscious figure. Brushing away a lock of wet hair, he gasped.

It was Althea Hall.

###

"Do you have a year, Ray?" Ann asked, turning a knob to sharpen the focus on the viewing screen. Still no Doug or Tony. Just some rather dried out forest, a peek at the ocean, and a whole lot of sand.

"I have them pinpointed at about…1871. Ann, would you take a look at this screen? Something…odd…is going on…"

Dr. MacGregor rose from her seat and walked over to the offensive piece of machinery.

"See those lines?" Dr. Swain said, pointing to the jagged design. "They indicate…"

"A counteractive force." Ann finished grimly. "Should we show this to the General when he gets off his coffee break?"

Dr. Swain nodded. "Definitely. If…"

Suddenly the image on the viewing screen started to quiver, then evaporate.

"Jerry, grab the controls!" Dr. MacGregor shouted, seeing that he was closer than either Ray or her. The younger man lunged at the panels, but not quickly enough.

The picture dissipated completely.

Ann quickly returned to her post, with Ray following suit.

"This…this is all my fault," she said shakily, "I shouldn't have left the image sharpened without keeping a close eye on the controls. I _knew _it would put too much pressure on the Tunnel. Oh, how could I have been so stupid…?"

Ray sighed and gave her an encouraging rub on the shoulder. "It's just as much my fault. I was the one who distracted you. The important thing now is to try and get our fix back."

She grimaced. "Sometimes I wonder why you keep me on the project."

Without looking up from his controls, Ray replied, "You're an asset. You're a smart woman, with knowledge in both science and history, whether you realize it or not. Besides," he smiled wryly, "Doug would kill me if I fired you."

Ann managed a weak grin. "Don't get your hopes up, Swain."

Ray covered one of her hands with his and met her eyes. "He cares about you, Ann. Don't you see it?"

"Ray, I…"

"What happened?" General Kirk exclaimed, coming up behind the two of them. "Wasn't the transfer successful? Why don't we have an image?"

"Oh, it was successful alright. General, if you would step over here, I'd like you to take a look at this screen." Ray rose from his seat and led the way.

Ann snapped the fine focus knob off, and then lowered the magnification.

Funny how working the Tunnel reminded her of that one poignant memory from ninth grade—looking at each of the organs from the frog they had dissected under the microscope. Her partner had been that adorable Barton Sandalworth, who had driven her to pure distraction almost that entire first day of experimentation.

But by the next day he had been dismissed from the school; if rumor was to be believed, he had raped a girl, and that was enough to douse any crush that might have been developing.

She'd had to finish that experiment by herself, but she didn't really mind. In fact, that had been when she'd first really fallen in love with biology, and by the end of ninth grade, it was clear to her that _that_ was what she wanted to do with her life.

Oh well. What did it matter now? She was here.

She flipped the relocation switch.

"Jerry, revitalize the probe!"

She had to bite her knuckles in order that she not cross her fingers. It was ridiculous, really. She was a _scientist _after all. Since when was she driven by superstition?

Watching the screen, she saw the image flicker back to life. The same image, and still sans Doug and Tony, but an image nonetheless.

"Gentlemen," she exclaimed, "We're back in business."


End file.
